Having It All (11 page)

Frank had decided that Miss Katy, as cute and punishable as she was, needed a bit of hard disciplinary truth. He attached the thin steel band, similar to those around Katy’s head, to the front of her waist so that it hung vertically from just below her navel, fastened to the waist band. Then he slipped the band through a metal, medium sized, electronically controlled vibrator, added a second, slightly smaller one next to it, smeared both with lube, smeared some more lube on her sex and asshole and, without a word, pushed both plugs into the wall-bound girl’s private receptacles.

“EEEE, oooooo, ahhhh,” shouted Katy into the metal mouth plug. Very little sound emerged, but the twin steel plugs were now submerged into her tight little asshole and cunt. The lube and her sustained level of sexual excitement had made the impalement easy and Frank was already thinking that he should have used larger ones. Nevertheless, he pulled the band up through her anal divide and secured it at the back of the waist band with a sliding metal lock, making sure it was tight enough to neatly split her lower lips and spread her buttocks slightly as well. The locking band through her crotch had an adjustment, similar to that used to tighten hose clamps. Frank selected a short Phillips screw driver from his work belt and twisted the screw head, taking up the minute amount of remaining slack in the crotch band and driving the twin probes even deeper into their liquefied caves. Astonished that this was being done to her, Katy howled again, struggling against the clamps that held her to the wall.

“Well, Katy, you asked for it,” muttered Frank, encouraged by her resistance because, in spite of her boldness and candor, he wanted her to suffer from, or at least resist the dual impalement from the uninvited intrusions between her legs. He grinned at her, closed the rubber panel between her legs, carefully allowing the confining metal bands to slip through slots in the panel. Then he turned on the vibrators, gave one nipple a squeeze and left the room.

Katy spent the next eight hours sweating, writhing and tugging at the clamps that held her in the stretched spread eagle position on the wall. Anyone looking into the cell would see only a shining black, rubber clad figure, stretched against the wall, shuddering and wiggling, vainly trying to find release from the constricting metal bands, the horribly tight head harness and the vicious roto rooters in her crotch. The vibrators cycled on and off and she got her orgasms…more than she expected. In fact, she hadn’t really considered being impaled simultaneously with two dicks while stretched on the wall because she and F&E hadn’t discussed sex at all.

Well, no, she thought. That’s not totally correct. She wiggled her rubber-encased ass for the thousandth time, trying to unseat the vibrators. She talked to F&E in the car on the way to the camp about how she got off on self bondage, but this wasn’t what she expected. Being tied or chained wasn’t, as far as she was concerned, the same as being fucked by inanimate mechanical objects while stretched out and sealed in a latex suit with her head being squeezed by a harness and metal clamps. But that’s exactly what was happening to her and she struggled to grasp the totality of the game now being played. Would F&E let her go if she objected? No, she didn’t want that. This was too good a discovery. But at least they could have told her she was going to be rubberized and doubly screwed for as long as they felt like doing it to her.

No part of her restraints budged except that one of the sliders holding her ankle moved about an inch and then locked. That was the extent of her motion and she realized that she was beginning to have a good time. She pumped her ass against the wall, pulling against the waist clamp and then relaxing, clutching her ass and anal muscles and then relaxing them, working the butt plug in and out to the extent she could with the steel bands holding both plugs in place. She alternately surged forward, driving her clit against the invading metal band that bisected her crotch. She found that by pushing her hips down into the probes and then pushing up with her toes, she could get a few inches of movement against the plugs. She worked this strenuous three way combination until she had to stop from total fatigue and multiple orgasms. Below her, the feet of the suit continued to fill with her salty sweat. She could feel the wetness pooling around her feet and slowly moving up her lower legs. What a strange feeling, she thought. If I stay here long enough I’ll fill the suit with my own body fluids. No wonder Frank put the water hose into the gag!

The vibrators went on and then off at unexpected times and this gave her more than she bargained for. Katy had an exciting and tiring night and it was only her second one at the estate.

Chapter Eight

Covering The Bases

The original weekend of Patty’s abduction and initiation had passed long ago. No one seemed to be worried about her and when they went back to the city to work, F&E saw and heard nothing about Patty from anyone. Office water cooler lore had it that she went to Buffalo for a reunion, met some guy and was going to stay there. A few short, low key and informative notes had been sent to possibly inquiring persons and her bosses at the firm. Frank and Ellen insisted on these being written on their laptop and printed on a special printer that neither of the captors ever used, so that if the notes were ever traced, there was no connection to the kidnapping couple. Patty had to be encouraged to write, in her own handwriting, additional short notes at the end of the letters and to sign them carefully. The encouragement was pretty simple, right out of the CIA manuals on coercion of hostages, and the letters were sent and received without incident. Since Patty had in nearly every case provided a P.O. Box return address, relating that she was doing some traveling and visiting several cities, the box address seemed to satisfy everyone she knew. She even got some return mail, which, with Ellen’s help, she of course responded to with happy and interesting notes and the occasional postcard from Yellowstone National Park, Las Vegas, San Francisco, (a nice postcard from Alcatraz, that Frank thought was especially appropriate), and other places where the couple had associates and clients who easily mailed the materials for them. They decided that as far as Patty’s disappearance was concerned, they had covered all the appropriate bases.

Meanwhile, the couple continued their training and enjoyment of Patty as another member of The Cabin Club, as they called it. Patty had signed up for the long term, after an especially rewarding session with both Frank and Ellen in the cellar and she was now on board as the number one cranky guest. Everyone figured out that Patty’s thing was to bitch and be treated as a bitch and enjoy it.

F&E resumed their normal practice of more or less abandoning their charges in the house for four and five days at a time while they went back to the city for business and other activities, leaving only Max and Ted and usually one free guest to feed and perform maintenance. They were not worried about anyone finding the women (and men) stored in the sub-basements because of the isolation of the site and the obscurity of the holding areas below, inside the mountain and under the house. Still, there was always the chance of a wandering cross country skier, snowmobiler, hunter or poacher stumbling onto the property or trying to break into the house or outbuildings and so they had taken suitable precautions. They were not worried about escapes. They had never lost a Club member and they didn’t expect to. Their locks, cages and chains, plus the apparent adaptation of their charges, made escape seem unlikely. Electrified areas in the buildings and on the property yielded a few dead animals now and then, but so far, in the time they had been using the cabin, no one had even come near it. Max patrolled the grounds regularly, but on no fixed schedule. Sometimes he went alone and at other times, he’d take one of the members along as a partner or as a pet, depending on whom it was and how he felt at the time.

He had some special places around the property where he and his guest could stop for an hour or two or even over night. Those stops were never boring. The sensors and video cameras throughout the property occasionally set off alarms and then he’d check the displays and, if necessary, go out and see what had set them off. When he left the house, he first released the “on call” member to take over for him, in case anything happened.

Everyone wanted to go with Max. Purple and Katy had both experienced the thrill of riding through the silent woods in the roaring snow cat, tightly bound and gagged in the rear seat, usually totally naked. On some occasions, perhaps just to impress Max, the riders appeared for their evening’s entertainment dressed in the skimpiest of lingerie. The women seemed to have a competition as to who might show up for the snow cat ride (and other things) in the most outrageous and seductive outfit.

Max was delighted to have the silent, mostly nude company and either girl would have easily charmed the pants off of anyone who they might have encountered on the property, so no one worried about the seeming impropriety of a man tooling around in the deep forest with a nearly nude woman tied up in the back seat. Max kept the heat going full blast and that seemed to solve the only real problem: the frigid night air.

Early one evening, with Katy aboard, he stopped at one of the old, run down barns on the property. Katy had, as usual, insisted on the most strict and stringent bondage and Max had obliged by tying her with her arms up over the back of the steel seat, elbows together, wrists pulled down and secured to one of the cross pieces of the seat structure. Rope was wrapped around her upper body, pulling her arms close to the sides of the seat and outlining her breasts with three strands of ropes above and three below. These chest ropes were so tight that Katy’s tits stuck out even further than usual and had the tight, shiny surface that comes from rigidly binding the flesh at the base of the breasts. More rope held her waist to the seat back and additional three strand coils went around her thighs, calves and ankles. Max had done the bindings quickly and expertly, but also with an eye of being able to release her quickly if need be. Katy wore a leather collar that had D rings that were roped to the wall panel behind her. Her gag was a monster inflatable version that filled her mouth and allowed nothing more than monosyllabic sounds from her throat.

A few minutes into the ride, Max commented that he wanted to stop and check one of the many old barns on the property. Katy simply nodded and uttered a single grunt.

“This was part of one of the original farms that were here before Frank’s parents consolidated the many properties into one huge estate,” Max said to the roped and gagged girl in the back seat. “Want to go explore?”

Katy, with her usual enthusiasm, hummed and nodded vigorously.

“Want to walk or should I just carry you?” Max asked, laughing at the thought of the naked, bound girl hopping like a bunny through the foot of snow on the ground.

“Okay. It’s carry Katy, I guess,” said Max as he shut down the snow cat and climbed out. He opened the back door, untied Katy from the steel seat by simply cutting the ropes and, with her hands and feet still bound, threw her naked form over his left shoulder. With one hand on his female load, he locked the snow cat’s doors and started for the ancient structure’s nearest door. Katy was surprised to notice that the barn, although looking like it was about to fall down, had heavy pad locks on all the doors that she could see and there was wire reinforced glass in the windows.

Max unlocked the door, entered the musty smelling mud room and unceremoniously deposited Katy on top of a low cabinet on the floor. Knowing her way around farms, Katy assumed that she was sitting on what had been a feed storage bin of some sort.

“How would you like to spend the night here?” Max asked, sweeping one of his many flashlights around the small room that had been once used as the entry area where the farmer took off his heavy outer clothing and perhaps even his outer boots.

“Ummmm,” said Katy with her usual delight.

“You little nut,” Max laughed out loud. “You don’t even know what this place is like and you would spend the night here, freezing your tits off?”

“Ummmm. Ummmmm. Ho hay,” mumbled Katy, looking around at the white painted walls and the tiled floor.

“I’ll be right back. Need to check on something,” Max said and walked through the inside door, leaving Katy shivering on the cabinet, wondering if he’d even come back.

In a few minutes, Max was back and he bent over, picked Katy up again and carried her into the deep recesses of the huge old barn. Once in the central room, the gallery, where the high roof was more than two stories up, he lowered Katy to the dirt floor and began to untie her hands and feet. He took her gag out first.

“Oh, my,” were Katy’s first words as she wet her lips and looked around at the dark and perhaps foreboding interior of the place. “Is there a heater in here? It seems really warm for an empty old barn.”

“Well, sort of,” said Max. “It’s natural heat from two sources, which is why it’s kept intact and maintained. Believe it or not, below this building is a warm spring that almost no one knows about. Frank and Ellen tapped it for heat and hot water when they lived here while they were doing renovations to the main house. There’s a pretty nice apartment at that end,” he pointed into the distant darkness. “So that keeps things from freezing. When they kept animals here, they also maintained an active manure still in the rooms beneath this floor.”

“Manure still?”

“Yeah, it’s a very efficient system, but as usual, there are political powers that don’t want people to use or know about such things.”

“Huh? You mean it works this well and no one knows about it?”